


Pillars of the Universe

by foxmoon



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Action/Adventure, Allura (Voltron) Lives, Amnesia, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bisexual Lance (Voltron), Canon Temporary Character Death, Depression, Dream Sex, Druid Keith (Voltron), Established Relationship, F/M, Fix-It, Grief/Mourning, Heavy Angst, Minor Curtis/Shiro (Voltron), One-Sided Sheith - Freeform, Outer Space, Pining Keith (Voltron), Reunion Sex, Reunions, Romance, Slow Burn, voltron ending fix-it
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-07
Updated: 2019-02-16
Packaged: 2019-10-06 08:23:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17341925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/foxmoon/pseuds/foxmoon
Summary: Allura sacrificed her life to save all realities, but the one she left behind hasn't been the same ever since. At least, that's how Lance feels as he struggles with her loss. As time passes, it's clear that there is more to it than that. Strange glitches in space-time grow more frequent and alarming. When the lions awaken and soar away, no pilots at their helms, Lance is determined to follow them. Unknown to the paladins, Allura has returned, but she has no memory of who she is and what happened. She wanders, searching across the stars, following breadcrumbs of memories to find herself. But the longer she remains unknowing, the sicker the universe becomes. Lance and the paladins set out in search of the Lions, in search of her, before reality collapses entirely.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> My crack at an epic fix-it for season 8! I tried to catch all of the tags that are relevant for my current plans, but I will be sure to update them as I go if other characters or ships emerge. I hope you like it!

Lance was not used to building impenetrable walls around himself. More familiar were the permeable kind, the kind built with exaggerated confidence and goofy antics. The kind most people saw right through to the deeply insecure, arguably obnoxious, and yet fun-loving guy underneath. But ever since she walked into that endless, glimmering hell to knit reality back together, Lance had set to work on the foundation. Stone by stone, he enclosed himself. First, he stopped leaving his room aboard the Atlas. Then, he told visitors that he was fine and he just needed some sleep. He would have ignored them, but he didn’t want them to worry too much. Until, lastly, he silenced all of his com devices. It wasn’t exactly intentional. He didn’t want to be alone in the dark. It just felt less painful to nest in this void of his own making than to carry on like the universe could exist without her.

The only person he allowed in after a day or two—maybe four, he wasn’t sure—was Hunk, who had taken upon himself to deliver meals.

“I hate doing it like this, Lance. You’re not a freakin’ prisoner,” Hunk said as he exchanged the barely touched evening tray with a breakfast one.

“I’m fine. You really don’t have to.”

“Yeah, well, too bad.” He set the tray on Lance’s desk. “Though I’d rather you join us to eat. You could come out at least once a day and see us. Might help. We all miss her. Sometimes it helps to talk about the good times, you know?”

Hunk had a point. That sort of thing  _did_  help when his abuelito died. “Yeah. I’ll try,” he replied, but he wouldn’t try.

Another week passed. She was still gone, and he was still numb and despondent. Avoiding reality had not stopped or reversed time, to his great dismay. How could this be it? How could she be… He chucked the video game controller aside. He had barely paid attention to the game anyway. Every attempt at distraction only meant it hurt more when his mind returned to her.

Allura was incredible—powerful—but so full of doubt and hesitancy. Every time she doubted herself, he’d been there to support her, but… Did he encourage her too much? Had he gone too far, and accidentally made her feel responsible? Of course she had the ability to make the entire span of existence a better place. Her life did not need to be the price, though. Never in a million years would he want her to feel that way. That was not what he intended when he said to make right our mistakes, and now he couldn’t correct himself. He couldn’t reassure her that Honerva’s choices were not her mistakes to fix.

They had faced and overcome so many impossible odds that the very notion that there was no other way had been a hard pill to swallow. He could sometimes trick himself into believing it’d all be over soon. Any day now they would get a peculiar distress signal from deep space, and it would be her, finished with the mission and ready to return home. Lance would hold onto that possibility until his last day. Until then, he still had to breathe, and that wasn’t easy when the agony of her absence kept crashing over him, suffocating, squeezing his heart. Each passing moment felt like another stone placed on his chest to sink him deeper and deeper into himself. He’d rather not surface and know a world without her. He’d pick up each stone and place it on the wall around himself in some pitiful attempt at keeping the hope from escaping while also shutting the rest of the world out.

Days bled together. Weeks. Quintants and movements, or whatever-the-fucks. Sleep helped pass the time, but even then he couldn’t rest. He dreamt of realities severing like umbilical cords, the lives of countless beings pouring out only to disappear forever. He felt his own death in each one of them, over and over. Each one as painful as the last. He dreamt of infinite darkness and nothing but the faint glow from his brand new Altean marks to illuminate his surroundings. He’d float for eons until he noticed another distant star. It pulsed, steady and sure, but farther away than he could imagine. He tried to swim towards it, but undefined shapes drifted past him like the carcasses of enormous sea creatures falling to the bottom of the sea. They brushed against him, grotesque and malformed, pulled him back from the star with their strange, slippery appendages until he screamed himself awake.

The best (and worst) dreams were the ones of her. Her bright, cosmic gaze fixed up at him, stern yet coy. Of stolen kisses in corridors, shy smiles from across the room, and fervent confessions in hidden alcoves with her lips pressed to his neck. He dreamt of her scolding voice, her stoic mask giving way to utter disdain at his past advances. He dreamt of her in battle, body sinuous and agile as she tore Galra soldiers to shreds. Even in fury, she was exquisite.

He dreamt of her face mere inches from his as they shared a pillow. She had her hands under his shirt, trailing over his back, his stomach, and further still to fumble with his pants. He awoke in a haze of arousal and quiet joy. She was so real. Her skin, her scent, how she’d say his name in only the ways he could know. He even smiled, eyes closed, caught in that delicate membrane between wakefulness and sleep. He’d slide his hand across the sheets in search of hers. It would convince him for the briefest blissful moment that her death had been the nightmare and it was over at last. But in truth, they never went so far as to wake up in bed together, and that’s when the realization of her loss would sweep over him and he’d fold back in on himself like a black hole.

For as miserable as he was, he was still a physical being last time he checked, and therefore his body still pestered him with basic biological needs. One night, or afternoon, he’d long ago lost track, he snuck out to use the communal bathroom and caught a glimpse of his reflection in the mirror as he washed his hands. Dead eyes, matted hair, disheveled clothes. Man, he looked rough. The Altean marks at the corners of his eyes stood out oddly in the amorphic glow of the overhead light. He brushed his fingertip across one of them as one would tenderly inspect a black eye, recalling how they appeared under her touch. The sensation had been warm and tingly, and in her presence, practically electric. Yet now, nothing. Just intensely pigmented blue skin, far deeper than a tattoo and perfectly shaped like fat boomerangs. They both confused and reassured him. Why did she do it?  _How?_  She had mentally conveyed some sort of message to him as they appeared, like a seed drifting in on a current of air, but he’d forgotten almost as fast. It was just there at the edge of his mind, waiting. A whisper barely loud enough for him to hear and perhaps in a language he didn’t even know. Was he supposed to do something to draw out the message?  His glowering reflection softened as it dawned on him—what if it was like the connection to the lions, and all he had to do was focus?

He braced his hands on the bathroom counter and closed his eyes. The ambient hum from the Atlas engines helped pull his thoughts inward. He was never a meditative person, his mind was far too busy for that to work, but if he had a specific concept to center his thoughts around, he could get close with a bit of effort. The lion bond had come a bit more easily, because it was a reciprocal link. This was just poking around in his own brain. There were too many errant thoughts and worries, like a cluttered attic. If he sifted one thing aside, it would reveal a hundred more. Somewhere among the tendrils of old memories and the disorganized collection of facts was that seed she’d planted. He took a deep breath and tried again, this time going a bit deeper.

 

Suddenly, everything shook as though the ship had encountered a great field of turbulence. He stumbled slightly, but caught himself on the counter. The lights flickered, and in the mirror he saw infinite reflections of himself, there and gone in a flash. The shaking finally stopped, and his reflection went back to normal. Just his weary visage framed by the stalls in the background. He took a moment to find his bearings, then returned to his room.

The door slid open at his approach. An odd sensation hit him as he stood at the threshold, like a brief freefall, over before it came. He didn’t remember entering his room, didn’t hear the door slide shut, didn’t recall walking to his bed--but he was sitting on it, and already holding the photo taken on the evening of his first date with Allura. The abrupt appearance of that image of himself staring back, smiling and so in love, jarred him to his core. And Allura, there with her arm slipped through his and hope in her eyes, made his heart ache all over again. The photo trembled in his unsteady hands, and before it could be stained with tears, he propped it back up on the shelf behind his bed where it belonged.  

His orange communicator lay next to where he propped the photo, unused and silenced for longer than it had been in… ever. He eyed it, considered asking Shiro if anything was up, but didn’t have the energy or mental wherewithal to follow through. They would’ve alerted him by now, and he didn’t want to bother the captain of the ship over what might amount to be his own sad mind playing tricks on him. He settled for cocooning himself back in bed, arms wrapped around his pillow as some form of surrogate for her warmth.

_I’m afraid this is where we must part ways._

Her voice, her last spate of words, had become akin to intrusive thoughts, sliding into his mind when his attention was turned to something else.

_I’ll always be with you, Lance._

He pressed his forehead into the pillow. “Be with me now,” he whispered, a brittle, weak thing.

_And I’ll always love you._

By the end of the third week of his self-imposed isolation, attempts were made to coax him out of his room and cheer him up.

Pidge offered to play video games with him, and when he shot that down like it was the last thing he’d ever want to do, the incredulous look in her eyes made his stomach twist with guilt. He had no interest in games, like, at all. He’d tried a couple of times, but he couldn’t focus, and it brought him no joy. Nothing did. She got serious with him after that. Angry, even. How dare he give up. How dare he act like nothing mattered in the universe except Allura. It drew out the biggest fight between them they’d ever had, and before she let the door slide shut, she urged him to look into how to code, or to teach himself particle physics. Anything to help him not be so goddamn _stupid_.

James recommended to attend the morning meetings and afternoon drills as a way to help keep some semblance of structure. Ryan asked to join him at the firing range, and Lance  _almost_ , almost took him up on it. Ryan’s presence tended to calm his typically frenetic energy, and, honestly, he kinda had a thing for the guy. He supposed it was a good sign that he still was capable of stuff like friend crushes and basic physical attraction.

On their heels, and to his immense surprise, Keith stopped by bearing helpful advice. Told him to at least get up out of bed and take a shower. Start with a simple thing to help keep him from lying in despair all day. It’s what the grief counselor had suggested when Keith’s father died. Didn’t erase the anger entirely, but at least he could walk around with it instead of letting it anchor him in place.

“I dunno why I didn’t think I could be these things at once. That, like, getting on with my day didn’t mean I was…” he took a shaky breath, “betraying her somehow. I can be angry and still eat food.”

 

The corner of Keith’s mouth twitched in a half-grin. “Yeah. She’d want you to, anyway.”

Lance rubbed the back of his head, sheepish. “Remember when she’d get so mad at us for sleeping through morning drills?”

“I don’t blame her. I’m surprised she didn’t send us packing.”

“She so wanted to.”

“You probably more than anyone else, but look where that ended up.” Keith said with a nod over to the photo of Lance and Allura.

Lance shifted awkwardly, gaze dropping to the floor.

“Lance, just promise me you’ll try, all right? If that fails, go ballistic in the battle simulator. Always helps me.”

Lance took his advice later that evening and headed for the showers. It helped. He even reactivated his room’s day-night cycle so he wasn’t always lurking in the darkness.

Shiro suggested push-ups, or a walk. Something to drive the focus out of his mind and into his body. If that failed, envision a place and time when he felt the most calm and centered. Varadero beach, perhaps. Picture the waves and the sand and the sunset. Every vivid detail, and breathe along with the ebb and flow of the surf. These strategies had helped him cope through imprisonment and torture. Lance wondered what place and time Shiro thought of as his sanctuary, but his depressed mind kept him from asking. As Shiro was leaving, he pulled a concerned face.

“One other thing, Lance. We’ve been experiencing some odd cosmic anomalies. Most are only detectable at the quantum level with our instruments, but some have had noticeable effects on the Atlas. Be aware of that in case you hear the klaxons. I’ll make sure someone checks on you.”

Lance nodded, recalling the odd experience in the bathroom.

“Hey, you can get through this. We’re here for you.” He smiled a soft, encouraging smile, and left.

Coran would sit on a stool by Lance’s bed, and initiate a convoluted Altean dice game with him. Lance appreciated his visits the most, because he’d never ask questions. He wouldn’t talk about Allura, though his eyes were sunken and shoulders slumped. He’d just arrive and start the game, and more often than not, would win. They’d end up laughing about some crazy adventure he had at Lance’s age. He’d talk fondly about Alfor and share ancient Altean historical facts. Then he’d pack up and go.

Hunk attempted to appeal to Lance’s extraverted nature with an invitation for a night out during one of their final stops on the way back to Earth. There was a neat anti-gravity nightclub where they could hover to the sickest beats this side of the galaxy. Nadia was currently attempting to convince James to join them, already dressed to go, and Ryan said he’d join if Lance was game. It was nice to hear something like that. He’d wanted to get to know Ryan better, too. It also gave Lance major nostalgia. A strange sensation of tables turning. He’d once been the one to beg Hunk to join him in sneaking out of the Garrison for a night of mischief and fun. Lance smiled at his oldest friend, but declined the offer.

“Dude, I’m gettin’ real worried about you,” Hunk said. “It’s been weeks. We’re like, halfway home.”

“Yeah, that’s what I’m afraid of.” Lance rubbed the back of his head.

“Lance? Afraid to go home?”

“There’ll be a crowd waiting. Press. Everyone will cheer and they’ll ask us questions. They’ll wanna know what happened to her.” He sat down on his bed.

Hunk fully entered and the door slid shut behind him. “Oh. Yeah.” He awkwardly shifted his feet. “Maybe we can warn them ahead of time. Have you been getting any sleep?”

 

“Barely. Or too much, depends.” He shrugged half-heartedly.

“Sorry, man. Wish I could help. Refusing to go out and dance? I don’t even want to do that, but I’m trying to get you to just…” He sighed. “I miss Allura, too. We all do. But you know I also miss Lance. Where’d that guy go?”

Lance looked away, Hunk’s words driving a wedge of shame into his stomach. “Whatever. I don’t want to go the cafeteria, why would I want to go dancing?”

The warmth in Hunk’s eyes hardened. He shook his head, appearing to struggle internally with what he wanted to say next. “The Lance I know wouldn’t give up like this. When you find him again, let me know. I’ll stay out of your way till then.” 

“Oh great. First Pidge, now you?” Lance shot to his feet. “Maybe you don’t know me that well after all. Neither of you seemed to notice when I was upset before. Sorry I can’t just pretend like the love of my life didn’t go off to die while we did fuck all to stop it.” He gestured emphatically, punctuating his words with a pointed finger.

Hunk held up his hands defensively. “Seriously? We’re gonna bring that up now? What did you want us to do, Lance? There was nothing left in existence by that point. IN EXISTENCE! We didn’t even have Voltron there. Allura said it herself. She’s the only one who can show Honerva how to use the quintessence for good. It was the only way. She also had that dark entity--”

“Fuck the dark entity!” Lance’s voice rose an octave. “And her thinking it’s the only way—that’s just Allura. She was always saying stuff like that. Did you ever listen to her? She was constantly second guessing herself, saying there’s no other way but the hardest, most punishing way. Worried that she didn’t have the skills or, or that she’d mess things up. God… I have no doubt in my mind that she could heal the universe. I felt it myself when she brought me back to life. It’s like… I can’t describe how it felt. But her life shouldn’t have been the price for it!”

“Hold up—she brought you back to _life_? When the heck did that happen?”

Lance rolled his eyes and waved dismissively. “Sort of. Yeah. It was a while ago. Before we ever found out about Lotor.”

 

“What? I mean, damn. Anyway, of course I didn’t hear any of that because she only said that stuff to you, Lance. She always seemed confident and in control of whatever crap the Galra threw at us. It’s a good thing, too, ‘cos man was I scared—”

“I haven’t given up,” Lance ground out.

Hunk gave a heavy sigh. “Well, then prove it. You’re a paladin of Voltron, so act like one. Honor her memory and live your life.”

“I  _haven’t_  given up on her. She’s out there somewhere.”

Hunk’s return glare faded to a soft sort of pity. “I—I hope that’s true.” He then quietly left.

Lance stood in the center of his room, shame morphing to resentment. Resentment for all of them. Was he seriously the only one angered by the sheer injustice of her fate? Not to mention, they all seemed to so easily accept the finality of her loss. They had no body, no proof she was gone forever, and he certainly wasn’t going to be the one to entertain the possibility that she had simply disintegrated. He grabbed the nearest object, the stool by his desk, and threw it across the room. It crashed into the far wall. A piece of the base snapped off and flung right back at him. He dodged just in time, but stumbled to the floor. Pain splintered through his knees and the heels of his hands. He yelped and rolled over, bringing the ceiling into full view. He remained there for a time to allow a wave of vertigo to pass.  

God, what had gotten into him? Was he the kind of guy prone to violent outbursts now? Pidge was right. He was being stupid. The indignation was a new feeling, at least. It felt good to let another emotion in other than endless sorrow, but naturally it’d already began to shift into fear. Hunk was his  _best friend_. They had all tried many times to talk to him, and he had been the one to shut them out. Who was he to assume they weren’t in their own rooms right now railing against the universe for taking her away. If he lost them, too, it would be his own doing.

_You’re a paladin of Voltron, so act like one. Honor her memory and live your life._

He grabbed a change of clothes and headed for the showers. He would attempt to make this right, one person at a time. After a hot shower that cleansed both the emotional and physical grime, he dressed and headed for Hunk’s room. But his feet didn’t take him there. They took him away from the residential deck all together, and straight to the lion hangar aboard the Atlas. To the blue lion. It was like she called to him, both in reprimand and in urgency. His feet quickened, a thrill shot through him. He remembered who he was, why she’d chosen him all those years ago as her paladin. Somewhere along the way the stones he’d set up around himself began to crumble. He felt determined. He had an objective; he was needed.

When he reached the hangar, he blazed past the red lion and came to a stop before Blue. He stared up at the ancient machine expectantly, breathless from exertion and in anticipation of that familiar glow in her eyes. Yet she didn’t activate at his presence. If she wasn’t calling to him, then what was?  Red remained equally stoic, as did the others—immense sentinels looming over him like monuments to a lost age.

He fell to the floor, wincing as his knees struck first. A thick lump rose in his throat, but he didn't swallow it down this time. Hot tears swam in his eyes. His vision blurred. He hadn’t been able to properly cry before, but now--now it all came out in a rush. He folded over himself and pressed his face into his hands. His sobs echoed in the large chamber, but it felt good to let go at last. Blue remained silent, and her silence pained him the most.

Anger sliced through his tears, and he glared harshly up to Blue. “What do you want from me?! Why did I even come here? First you shut me out, then you let her die! You should’ve known what she was going to do, you’re in her fucking mind for fuck’s sake! You should have... How could you just let her walk away? She just walked off like she knew all along that this was coming. Why didn’t you do  _anything_? You’re supposed to be the one to protect her!”

He slammed his fists on the ground. “You didn’t... didn’t do anything…” he sobbed over and over, forgetting whether he was angry at the lions or at himself. After a time, the intensity of emotion faded and he was left huddled up and sniffling. The tears finally dried up, and he let himself breathe for a few ticks. He stared at the hangar ground, at his reflection in its polished metal surface. The blue lion loomed overhead, cold and unresponsive to his sorrow.

“I’m sorry. It’s not your fault. I...I don’t know how to make it through this. Everyone’s offering advice and it just, god. I know they mean well, but she hasn’t even been gone that long and everyone expects me to keep going like nothing happened. I know she’d wouldn’t want me to waste away in my room, but…how? How do I live in this universe without her?” His voice had grown weaker, more hoarse.

“Lance?” called a voice behind him.

“Coran? Erm, hey there.” Lance clambered up to his feet and kept his back turned as he worked to dry his tears.

“Sorry to startle you, Lance. I thought I heard voices and I came to check.” Coran wandered up to stand next to him, hands on his hips.

“Yeah. I probably sound space mad.”

“Not at all. You sound like you’re mourning.” Coran stared up at Blue. “I’ve done my fair share of it as of late.” He tilted his head. “Allura told me something once. Something about you.”

Lance looked at him askance, waiting, but also not wanting to seem overeager to hear it.

“She said she thought your ears were strange.”

“...what? I guess that’s a step up from hideous…”

“It’s true. I asked how she felt about you piloting her father’s lion--this was shortly after she began piloting Blue, and she replied: ‘I have made peace with it. There’s more to him than I first assumed. I feel like I can confide in him. His ears may be strange, but they listen well.’”

 

Lance stared at Coran oddly. “Uh. I don’t know what to say.” He rubbed his ear self-consciously.

“She had feelings for you for a long time, Lance. Longer than you obviously were aware.”

“I’m not connecting those dots, but if you say so.” He hoped that Coran would elaborate, but he didn’t, and Lance felt selfish wanting to know something like that at a time like this.

Coran smoothed the end of his mustache and gazed off toward the middle distance. “I didn’t get to say goodbye.” He sniffed after a long pause. “But maybe that’s better. I don’t reckon I could without grabbing her round the ankles and wailing like a Balzubrian eelsnap.”

Lance felt a pang in his chest at that. “I don’t know which is worse,” he said, softly. “Either way it hurts.”

“Isn’t that the truth of it.” Coran tilted his head. “What brought you here anyway? This is the first I’ve seen you up and about.”

“I don’t know. I thought I felt Blue calling to me. Now I’m thinking it might’ve just been one of those anomalies Shiro told me about.”

 

Coran squinted in that typical, enigmatic way of his and peered up at the lion in question. “Ahh. Yes there have been a few oddities afoot. Just yesterday I thought I heard myself laughing down a corridor. But, hm. The lions are known to work in mysterious ways. Perhaps you’re too far away down here? Lean those agreeable ears of yours in a teensy bit further.”

Lance arched an eyebrow, stared up at the lion curiously. He took a step towards her. “I don’t know. I mean, why wouldn’t Red call to me? Me being the red paladin and all.”

“Who knows. I stopped trying to understand their temperamental ways thousands of deca-phoebs ago. I’ll let you be. Have a nice chat!” Coran turned and exited the hangar, boots tapping swiftly against the metallic floor.

Lance put his hand on the enormous forepaw of the mechanical beast. God, how he missed what it had felt like to pilot her. He’d gotten better at maneuvering in battle with Red, but Blue… Blue hooked into the core of who he was. Playful, caring, and unfettered. She moved like water, smooth and graceful, capable of slipping around obstacles with ease. She had validated his insistence that he was a good pilot, he just needed the right kind of ship to fly.

Before he got lost to specific memories, he climbed up to enter Blue for the first time since he flew her himself. Aimlessly he moved through the cargo hold, eyes skimming over his surroundings. Allura had been the last person aboard Blue, and he desperately wanted to find something that remained of her. An unmade bed, a paused playlist, or jewelry. Something tangible to prove she existed at all. She had left none of those things behind, for she was tidy and serious. After sitting on the narrow bunk for a while, he found her. In a sense. She kept an outdated Earth coin on the ledge by her bunk. He completely forgot he’d had that in his coat pocket, given to him by his older brother for good luck at the Garrison. She never mentioned to him that she had it, but it must have escaped his pocket at some point during his time piloting Blue. He thought he’d lost it completely. He picked it up and rubbed the surface with his thumb as he wandered into the cockpit.

He trailed his fingertips along the pilot chair, then sat down, legs a bit scrunched. Allura had the pilot seat adjusted to her height, and it would remain that way until Blue found someone else worthy enough to pilot her. The unlit console controls were locked in neutral positions. The viewscreen was devoid of glowing blue frames and ever-moving indicators, but he could see it all perfectly in his mind’s eye. He curled his hands around the control bars, closed his eyes. Blue remained as she had before--quiet and dark. If Shiro’s consciousness was bonded with the Black lion for a time after his apparent death, could Allura’s be bonded to Blue? With a steady breath, he dove deeper.

There. He felt something, but it wasn’t coming from the lion, not that he could tell. It pulled at his heart like gravity. A distant force from long ago and far away. It was Allura--had to be. Still there. Still connected to him. Tears brimmed in his eyes.

“Allura,” his voice trembled. “Please…C-can you hear me?”

He squeezed his eyes shut. Breathed steadily through his nose, but he felt nothing more. He wouldn’t give up though. He kept trying until sleep crept in to claim him. His body went slack in the pilot chair, head rolled to the side. When he arose from slumber after an indeterminate amount of time, he felt so at ease that he didn’t want to move. It was like waking in the most comfortable bed imaginable with Allura’s arms around him. He swore he could even hear her whispering, soothing him with soft impressions and gentle concepts, abstractions in place of words. Instead of feeling bereft and empty on discovering that she wasn’t actually there, he felt rested. Calm. Although perhaps a bit disoriented. A quick check of his communicator showed that almost two entire days had passed. The longest night of sleep since well before he ventured out to space, and he had not a single dream.

_You’re a paladin of Voltron, so act like one. Honor her memory and live your life._

Hunk’s words sank into him at last, as did Pidge’s, Keith’s, Shiro’s—all of their suggestions, even the acerbic ones, came together to form one blaring hypothetical gunshot aimed at the sky, spurring him into action. He would live his life, and that would mean many things at once. He wouldn’t just go through the motions, he’d be present, he’d laugh and fight and learn and dream. But he’d also miss her. He’d miss her so deeply that it would carve him like a knife, but he would never give up hope that someday he’d see her again. No matter how impossible it might be. For his family, his friends—for her—he climbed down from the blue lion. He didn’t want them to worry about him any longer. Stone by stone, he’d start to free himself.

There was a buoyancy in his heart as he leapt down from the exit hatch. He ran a hand through his hair and gave one last look up at Blue.

“Thank you. I don’t know if it was you, or if it was me, that brought me here, but thank you. For… everything.”

He left the hangar, with his hands in his pockets, and the Earth coin tucked into his palm.


	2. Chapter 2

Allura walked towards her father and the paladins of old. They stood before her in a bright white glow. Of course, it was an illusion. Why would _they_ be _here_? They greeted her approach with proud smiles stuck on hollow faces, mere manikins of who they represented. She only appeared to be persuaded as long as her friends looked on.  A Zarkon and Lotor mirage nearby had clearly distracted Honerva. She must discern the truth fast, or Allura would need to force it on her. This was no rosy afterlife. Nor was it hell, exactly. This was a projection, meant to assuage their pain before the swiftly approaching end. Or maybe it was one final attempt on Honerva’s part to lure them into non existence.

_You could let it all go._

Allura flinched. A feeling similar to the ‘pull of the endless,’ or _l'appel du vide_ , as humans referred to it, poked into her thoughts like a toe testing the waters. _Everything was taken from you, why not? Go on. You have nothing left to lose. There is safety in not existing. There is no more pain._ The dark entity coiled there, a siren intending to unmoor her. She swallowed it down and let it burn in her belly. It would never conquer her mind, though it would sharpen her resolve.

_There has to be another way._

Lance’s words spoken mere moments ago proved to be another sort of temptation. She had just found a new home. Family. _Love_. And now she couldn’t have those either. The marks she gifted to Lance connected them like a kite string, or bread crumbs, branding him with strange magic even she did not fully understand. But she had to try it. If there was any chance at all that she could come back, she’d need to find her way. And if it didn’t work... She touched her lips where the tingly press of his still lingered. _Please don’t resent it._

Allura looked back when she knew she shouldn’t. Because she was thinking of him, because she needed to see them all, needed to know they hadn’t already moved on. They each looked helpless, defeated, paralyzed. They’d accepted that she had the power to do this immense and perplexing thing. They did not stand in the way of it, but some small part of her wished they would scream out and lose control. The dark entity flexed under her skin, chiding her for thinking they cared. Allura met Lance’s gaze one last time. The only spot of tenderness left to exist lay there in his eyes.  

The radius of nonexistence closed in, brittle edges of reality filtering away just beyond their stoic forms. She tore her attention away the very moment before they were eclipsed. A calm followed. She blinked, disoriented. She cared deeply about something, but what? Nothing was there, no one. She touched her lips, trying to remember.

She snapped back into focus. “We must begin now or all is lost,” Allura said.

Honerva squeezed not-Lotor’s hands. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, my son. What I’ve done to you…”

“Honerva.”

Honerva flinched at the sound of her name and let not-Lotor’s hands go. She stared, hard and cold, at her own hands. “It is an impossible thing you expect of me. I’ve taken so much life away from the universe.”

“And so you will return it.” Allura’s sympathy for the woman who had been her father’s best friend was long gone, but she needed her for this one final act of restoration. She guided her to the center of all that was left. They stood face-to-face. “Put your hands out like you’re used to. Yes, that’s it. Now, feel yourself pour outward. You’re falling into the energy, you’re giving yourself to it. You feel it flow into you and out of you; you’re a channel not a syphon.”

Honerva appeared to hesitate, until the illusions around them vanished and all that was left was the two of them. The tension lines around her eyes softened.

Allura smiled, serene and sure. “Good.”  And then with a final invocation, the end was the beginning.

“I give my life.”

///

The Garrison bustled with preparations for the impending launch. Two more quintants and they would be back among the stars. Boarding of supplies had already begun, which meant a steady stream of cargo carts occupied grounds traffic leading to the Atlas. Outdoor cardio and head-clearing strolls were relegated to the outer wall or indoor track. An excited buzz permeated the atmosphere—many of the crew would experience their first time in space.

Allura walked with Romelle towards the showers after their late afternoon jog, unable to share in the enthusiasm surrounding her. They still had gotten nowhere with the mysterious Altean. It was difficult to not feel personally responsible for any failure that might await. She could barely focus on whatever Romelle was saying to her—something about not passing a flight simulator test—which Allura definitely should say something reassuring about. But just before she could, they rounded a corner and ran into Lance, who was on his way out of the showers. He wore jeans and a new t-shirt with his jacket slung over his shoulder. His hair was still damp, and it looked like he’d just raked his fingers through it.

Allura stopped short of slamming into him, and gave a nervous chuckle behind her hand. Her heart also did a little tumble in her chest, which she duly tried to ignore. “I’m sorry, Lance!”

Lance smiled. “A-Allura.” He cocked his head to the side as he met Her gaze. “Don’t be! You can run into me anytime. Hey, Romelle.”

Allura rolled her eyes in good humor, which also served as cover to keep her from spending too long admiring his general appearance. That did no good, however, because he smelled fresh and vaguely floral, but with something at the heart of it that she couldn’t name. Some earth herb. Perhaps she would ask Colleen later to help her identify it. Regardless, it was a smell she had grown dearly familiar with, only now it was bright and newly applied, meanwhile she likely smelled like sweat and dust from outside, and—goodness she was getting very preoccupied with this wasn’t she?

He rubbed the back of his head and a slight blush colored his cheeks. “I mean—uh, it’s okay. Sorry I wasn’t paying attention.”

“It’s quite all right. I fear I was the one not paying attention.” She laughed a little, feeling her own face growing warm.

“Hey, were you going to see the movie tonight? I think they’re showing _Terminal Assassination 2: Reflex Overkill_ , a classic. I put in a request for it and I can’t believe they finally picked it.”

Allura’s heart beat faster, yet her stomach sank lower. The combination might have inspired a strange expression, because he looked away to study the floor.

“Lance, truly I wish I could. I feel I’m very close to finding answers, so I must devote all of my time to this before launch, or I fear we may be heading out there with too many unknowns.” She rubbed her arm. “Save some popcorn for me?”

His eyes softened and a smile returned. “You got it, Allura.”

“See you, then.” She tried her best at a reassuring smile.

“See you!” He resumed his trek down the hall and waved as he passed them by.

More than anything, she wanted to see this absurdly titled earth film, especially knowing he would be there and it was one of his favorites. She watched him walk down the hall for a tick, and then sighed.

“Allura, you should really talk to him,” Romelle said.

Allura startled, forgetting she was there. “I—I just did.”

They entered the showers, and used the cover of running water to talk discreetly.

Romelle groaned. “No, I mean, tell him how you feel.”

Allura tried her best to look genuinely surprised. “How I feel? About what?”

“Don’t be coy. You two have been like this for ages! You have breakfast with him almost every morning in the commissary. If you’re there first, you make his buzzy bean drink, if he’s there first, he makes your hot leaf water. You train together often, you make these big eyes like an omblax doe in mating season when you see him. You forgot I was _right here_ the whole time you were just talking to him!” Romelle illustrated all of her points with exaggerated pantomime that made Allura out to be some besotted nimwit.

Allura could no longer feign ignorance. She found an interesting spot on the floor to focus on as she let her insides flutter around uncomfortably. There were two ways she could respond to this accusation. She could confess the truth, or continue to deny despite the evidence to the contrary. Admitting she had feelings for Lance at a time like this felt incredibly selfish. Besides, he might not feel the same, and she didn’t want the distraction of being rejected on her mind when she should be giving all of her energy to understanding what Honerva plans on doing next.

“He’s right mad for you as well, you know,” Romelle supplied, eyebrows raised expectantly.

“Is he?”

“Hunk told me all about it.” She spread her hands wide in slow motion to indicate the vast amount that there apparently was for them to have talked about.

Allura bit her lip to keep herself from demanding, by royal decree, the details in chronological order. She moved over to her locker and gathered the belongings she would need for a shower to give herself a moment to collect her scattered nerves. She then smartly turned around as her locker slammed shut.

“All right, yes, I do have a strong fondness for him, but—”

“I knew it!”

It was Allura’s turn to groan. “Please, keep it down.”

“Listen, the next time he asks you to do something with him you had better say yes.”

“I can’t promise that. Especially not until after we take care of Honerva.”

Romelle looked sad for her, then threw up her hands in defeat before heading off to her locker.

Allura twisted her lips guiltily and pressed her fingers to her forehead. “Wait.”

Romelle paused. “Yes?”

“It’s just that… I’m afraid I’ll lose him someday.”

Romelle zipped back over to her. “Oh, Allura...”

“The closer we get, the more I fear it. Resisting it is like… keeping him here and safe.”

“But you can’t know that for certain. Maybe it needs to be something you decide together?”

Allura let that suggestion sink into her. She nodded. “Thank you for listening. It feels good to know I can talk to someone about things like this.”

Romelle moved in to hug her, and she gladly acquiesced. They parted and Romelle hopped back to the shower she’d selected before. “Think on it, at least?”

“I will. Oh, and I’m sorry you failed your first flight simulation test. I hear it’s somewhat common among the paladins, if that helps. Let me know if you’d like assistance with further lessons.” Allura kept an easy smile for her friend.

Romelle beamed. “Thanks, but I think I’ll try something else. There’s so much to _do_ here!”

Allura laughed and went to find her own shower. She turned on the hot water and let the steam waft over her, surrounding her in a misty cloud. Eyes closed, she turned her thoughts to what she’d said. Being afraid of losing him. It wasn’t something she’d ever admitted out loud before, but neither had been much of their conversation. Something else nagged at her, though. A different take on that fear. _What if he lost me?_

///

For eons, Allura was diffused across time and space, and further still across all realities. In that ephemeral, preconscious state, she nudged quarks together that would form electrons and protons, which in turn would form atoms, molecules, buttons, and starships. She was not a god so much as she was a code, telling reality how to reform the way it had been before. And to which reality it belonged. Just so. People who had been severed from existence by the cold blade of Honerva’s rage resumed life on their former trajectories. They ate breakfast, danced at weddings, and studied for exams. Some took the interstellar tramway, others took plasma bullets to the chest. Allura could not change anything that had already happened, only inform the pattern that would knit things back together as they were, tragedies and all.

Her subconsciousness reformed slowly, like shifting currents along the coast of a sandbar. Every grain of memory swirled and reshuffled, nothing ever the same twice. Dissonant glimpses into other realities were interspersed with memories to the point she didn’t know which was which. She had no control over where her consciousness went, and could not pull herself back together to stop it. Even so, she sensed she was moving toward something, carried by inertia, like a river to some unknown sea. She tried to focus on that sensation, and tucked within it she found another. Loss. Or was it love? That one seemed to be the stopper, and with its undoing, more and more of her consciousness was released. She saw a woman with long moonlight hair that spilled over brown skin in thick waves. Her eyes were closed, chest rising and falling in delicate slumber. _Self_ , she understood. She then remembered _mother_. _Father_. She remembered _kingdom_ and _friends_ —not as individuals with vivid identities, but as abstract concepts with a vague form. She had these things at one point, and then she left them behind. But why? Was she alive? Was she dead? She was both, she was neither.

///

The Atlas observatory was not nearly as large and sophisticated as the one on the castle ship. Its instruments were practical and compacted—markedly human—with perhaps a few Altean embellishments, but it suited Allura just fine for her nightly fits of rumination. Or in this case, one very important conversation. She trailed her fingers along the thick drelantine silica glass that separated her from the vacuum of space. The ship travelled by a bright plume of gas, a star nursery, seemingly in slow motion due to its immense size. It was hypnotic. She could lose herself in counting the newborn flares of light, but her nerves were far too rattled. The dark entity pulsed like a second heart—they were going in the right direction.

Lance arrived moments later. She smiled as his reflection joined hers in the window glass. They had been together for phoebes now, and his hand slipped easily into hers. It was as comforting as it was strange. She had a _boyfriend_. A boyfriend she loved long before such titles became relevant to define their relationship. And yet, the love was new in a sense, newly romantic. Newly infused with fluttering heartbeats at the sight of him and nagging displeasure at his absence. She turned to him and the tips of their shoes touched. The way he regarded her, like she hung the moon, made her suddenly shy.

He leaned in. “I came as fast as I could. What’s up?”

“Sorry to wake you,” she said, giving his hand a squeeze.

“Don’t sweat it.”

She worried her bottom lip between her teeth and almost reconsidered, but she was no coward. “I must tell you something. I-I’m afraid it might change how you feel about me.”

A tinge of fear entered his eyes, but he didn’t look away from her. “Uh, that’s not possible. Unless you’re about to tell me you’re really a squid monster disguised as Allura to trick me into giving you all the helm security codes.”

Allura regarded him flatly. “You don’t even have the helm security codes.”

“So you just want me for my fit human physique then, typical squid monster.”

“Lance. This is serious,” she said, definitely on the edge of laughter, but she was very good at masking it. “Very well, perhaps it won’t change how you feel, but you will get cross with me, I know it.”

The corner of his mouth tugged upward. “Has that ever stopped you before?”

She finally allowed herself a chuckle. “Fair point. All right then, I’ll just get on with it.” She breathed a steadying sigh. “When I went to Oriande, as you know, I was required to endure several tests. I mentioned that I had passed the final test, but it was not until recently that I understood the gravity of that test and exactly what I had promised.”

Lance took her other hand so that their hands were suspended between them. His thumbs softly brushed over her skin. She closed her eyes momentarily at the sensation, and would prefer to stand here like this forever than confess something that might make him recoil.

“So, I offered my life. Now I see that it was an acceptance of an inevitable fate, rather than a vow to uphold if the circumstances arose. I’m concerned that it impeded with my ability to get close to you in a way that I... that I’d very much like. I mean, sooner. I’ve wanted this—to be with you—for some time since we returned to Earth, but I hesitated. There was always our mission…”

An array of emotions passed through his eyes. There was fear and frustration, but also earnest sympathy. He pulled her closer, arms going around her fully, but remained silent. Her heart began to sink. He always had something to say; he always managed to break the tension or ease her worries. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before we agreed on following this path.” Her words were muffled by his rumpled uniform jacket.

Lance shook his head. “It wouldn’t have changed how I feel. I still hate it, Allura. I hate it so much. It’s dangerous and I’m scared to death, but you’re not a reckless person. You wouldn’t have done this lightly, so, I choose to support you no matter what.”

She let the vibrations of his voice sink through her as she looked out at space. The star cluster had grown more sparse, signalling they were leaving the quadrant. “You’re also thinking we’ll figure out another way, aren’t you.”

“Well, yeah. We always do.”

The dark entity crackled. Its tendrils of frenetic power leapt from nerve to nerve, taunting her, mocking him. Allura tensed, and pulled back from leaning into him. She squeezed his hands a little too tightly until the sensation passed, then she loosened her grip and looked downward. “I’m sorry, I…”

He cradled her face in his hand and gently coaxed her to look back up at him. “What’s something you wanted to do but we didn’t have time to before we left?” he asked, his voice tired but with no less affection.

She reached for him, smoothed a crease on his uniform jacket, which he had obviously tossed on a bit carelessly on his way out to meet her here. Then in a surge of sheer impulse, she flung her arms around him. He returned her embrace and rested his cheek against her temple. The observatory and all of its contraptions, the span of space and stars flying by, all fell away.

“I—I don’t know,” she uttered, voice going a little wobbly. “I didn't even have time to consider things like that.”

“Dancing, maybe?”

“Maybe.” She smiled. “I don’t know...”

“You’ll definitely want to dance with me. I’m good at it.”

“Is that so? I might need some convincing.”

He guided her hand to his shoulder, placed one of his on her waist, and began to sway with her. She relaxed into his lead. It was not so much a dance as it was rhythmic meandering, but it lulled her into contentment almost immediately. Their only music was the steady hum of the Atlas engines. Even the incessant goading of the dark entity had gone silent.

“I love you,” she said.

His fingers pressed reflexively on her hip and he tilted his head against hers to kiss her on the cheek. “You’ll be okay, Allura. I don’t know how, but I just feel it.”

Allura looked up over his shoulder at the telescope that loomed in the center of the room. It was currently aimed at the quadrant of the galaxy they were heading. Aimed at Honerva. She tucked her head into his shoulder and sighed.

///

Time at last settled into a more linear flow. She was no longer everywhere, she was somewhere. The more condensed her physical form had become, however, the more vibrant were her thoughts. Patterns and images splashed and faded like fireworks to reshape her conscious mind, to help rebuild herself now that the universe had sorted itself out. She saw constellations in a moonless sky. Pink flowers as far as the eye could see. A high tower looking out over a beautiful kingdom. Mechanical beasts with metal teeth and transdimensional minds. There was a tree, a familiar tree, its glowing branches spreading out into the sky. Its roots unfurled under her feet in a myriad of twists and turns, growing so dense, so gnarled and knotted, that eventually she was enveloped into total darkness.

Pinpoints of light like phantom lanterns appeared, luring her out of primordial unconsciousness. She was bathed in a nebula—she _was_ a nebula, shaped like a sleeping woman. Her misty form was further wrapped in amorphous ribbons of light, five of them, around each wrist, each ankle, and her head. She was tethered to something—some _things_ —that were so far away the ribbons disappeared in the distant abyss surrounding her.

She called out to whomever might hear, but she made no sound. She tugged on the ribbons, unsure if they are of her or for her. She knew she was home, in her universe, in her galaxy, but she _still_ couldn’t remember why she left. After a time she curled up to simply let herself burn. She burned with grief and anger and pain, but also love, so much love.

///

Allura gazed across the pillow at Lance. His own attention captivated by the ceiling of her bunk. They had very few moments like this anymore, where they could just be together, quiet and warm. She was tucked under his arm, her own draped across his chest where she listened intently to his precious human heartbeat.

“Am I a good girlfriend?” She wondered, accidentally out loud. She’d been fidgeting with a button on his uniform while they listened to music. It was a collection of Earth songs that he thought she might like, which struck her as a very good and sweet thing for a boyfriend to make for her.

Lance shifted, tilting his face toward her. “The best.”

“Are you sure?” The blue lion plushie he’d won for her on Clear Day was wedged at the end of the bed by their feet, another reminder of his thoughtfulness. He had set out at her request to find something sparkly, but brought back something with far more meaning to both of them.

“Oh, yeah. You’re strong, smart, brave...”

She made a face. “But those attributes have nothing to do with whether I’m a good girlfriend to you. I’m uncertain of what defines good in this context by Earth standards.”

That made him turn completely to his side to face her. “You have nothing to worry about, Allura. You spend time with me, you care about my feelings, you’re honest even if you’re afraid I might not like what you’re saying. Plus, you seem to really like kissing me and I definitely count that as a good thing.”

Lance’s sincerity eased right into his apparent comfort zone of sly flirtation, and she hated how well it was starting to work on her. (Although if she were honest, it had worked long before now). She lifted her chin and arched a brow, a small suggestive smile playing on her lips. “ _Seem_ to? It _seems_ that I might need to clarify where I stand on that.”

“Now’s a good time as any.” His grin broadened.

Allura tugged at his jacket, pulling him closer. “I have to agree.”

Lance reflectively reached for her, hands grasping at her hips. It was an impulse she had come to know meant he’d been bursting at the seams to touch her for some time now. Laughter bubbled out of her as she kissed him, his eagerness stoking a bright effervescence in her chest. Nothing truly compared to it—to kissing Lance. When everything else felt heavy, like it was being pulled exponentially into darkness, he kept her light as a juniberry petal.

They kissed for some time, until uniforms were undone, and their mouths and hands roamed toward places they had not been before. Until Allura almost forgot everything that burdened her. Lance’s leg wedged between her thighs, her kisses grew less controlled, his hands were everywhere, and all of the warmth in her body began to pool in the cradle of her thighs. His palm traveled the length of her arm and over her bottom in one languid caress that made her cant her hips and grind his thigh. She gasped, small and breathy, at the shock of pleasure. His hips responded in kind. The groan caught his throat and the feel of him pressing hard against her abdomen gave her courage to try it again. She dug her fingertips into the thin cotton of his undershirt, feeling his lean muscles flex.

At perhaps the worst time possible, she remembered that he was human. There might be differences between their species that needed to be discussed. Things seemed… compatible so far, but. This was definitely uncharted territory. Eagerness shifted to a bashful sort of hesitancy.

“Wait,” she said, surprising herself a little.

“You okay?”

“Yes, but perhaps we should slow down.”

Everything in her screamed the opposite. She could not deny that she wanted this, wanted _him_. But now that she had let her mind take over, it did so in full force. Fears surfaced about finding Honerva, and with them guilt over stealing moments for herself that did not lead to answers.

“Oh, yeah, no prob.” He kissed her forehead then put some space between them so that they were still embracing, but not as entwined.

She smiled at his mussed-up hair and flushed skin. “I’m sorry. I think I’m too distracted about what’s to come. I want to savor this and feel completely in the moment with you.”

“Nothing to be sorry about.” He returned her smile, lazy and warm.

“Also, I’m not sure if a human has ever been intimate with an Altean before. I might look strange to you.”

Lance smirked a little. “No way. I’ve seen enough hot aliens in the past few years to decide I don’t care much about that. Besides, it’s you.” He nuzzled her before kissing her forehead.

Ancients, she wanted to kick herself for stopping. Now it would play onward in her mind to distract her during meetings. But it was right. Her logic was sound. She increasingly felt a mad sort of desperation for him that could only be driven by her underlying fear that they might not make it out of this alive. Or perhaps she was just as eager for him as her body clearly asserted. In that case, slowing down only made more sense, or soon they might find themselves thoroughly preoccupied in every seldom used corridor of the Atlas.

She clasped his hand, but noticed that his gaze had gone unfocused. He stared somewhere over her shoulder, a worry line between his brows.

“Are you displeased?” She paused, then hedged, “or did we go a little too far and you’re trying to think of something unarousing?”

Lance blinked and looked back at her instantly. “Huh? Oh—” he laughed, “Uh, the latter.”

“If it makes you feel better, I should do the same.” She sighed blissfully.

“Oh, Allura, that doesn’t help me at all.” He flopped back on the pillow and threw an arm over his eyes dramatically.

Now it was her turn to laugh. “Sorry!”

He grinned, the upper part of his face still covered. She leaned over and kissed his elbow.

Somewhere in the tangle of blankets and clothes, her datapad beeped. She fished it out and saw that it was Commander Holt. Ice threaded through her veins. She pressed the button and Holt’s transparent image appeared between them.

“ _I’m sorry to bother you, but we have made a profound discovery and need you immediately.”_

She gave a curt nod. “I will be right there.”

The small screen flickered out and Allura stared mechanically at the empty space left behind.

Lance lifted his arm from his eyes. “Want me to come with you?”

“I’d love you to walk with me, but I don’t know if they’ll allow you in the lab.”

He sat up and began buttoning up his uniform jacket. “You got it.”

Allura smoothed out a few cowlicks in his hair that she’d been at fault for creating. “Thank you.”

He captured her hand and helped her up to a stand. “Let’s hope it’s good news.”

///

As she slept among the stars, dreaming to life the last little bits of reality, a lucid vision overtook her. She stood before immense pillars that seemed to hold up the universe itself. An ocean of stardust swirled under her feet. The Sages of Oriande sat on a dais at its center in thrones of crystal and light, but they didn’t look like the sages described to her in childhood lessons; they had lion heads atop humanoid bodies and were shrouded in robes of infinite colors. They gazed into her, beyond her, seeing her in every existence simultaneously. A disembodied voice filled the atmosphere with vibrations that went beyond what could be possible for vocal chords of flesh and cartilage.

_Your ritual is not yet complete, daughter of Altea. We require of you one final task._

Allura’s throat thickened with a knot of anguish. How much she had already given, and they would ask even more of her? She fell to her knees, rendered numb from the very idea.

“I am yours, great protectors. What do you require of me?”

_You must choose._ Two planets appeared before her, suspended in midair. She did not recognize them by name, but they were sharply familiar somehow. _These two planets were destroyed in a great war. Only one can be restored. Which do you select?_

Allura regarded each planet with a hollow stare. She had never questioned the wisdom of the Ancients before, but after everything they made her go through, she had lost much of her reverence. Was she being an insolent mortal? Or were they so distant that they forgot that to be indifferent was not to be cruel. This was a cruel choice. The universe could be fundamentally altered by the reappearance of either planet, therefore it was a choice they did not have to give her if they were truly indifferent beings. She made her decision and shifted her gaze coolly toward the ancient ones.

“I choose both. Restore both planets.”

_Only one—_

“I said, restore both, and then you will test me no more.”

A resounding silence followed her echoing command. She knew not how long she waited in this place of formless iridescence before something finally happened. A large cracking sound rang out. One of the pillars had splintered along its middle. The pillar shimmered along the seam of the crack, light so brilliant that she had to avert her eyes. Then one of the statues began to crumble. Half of a face slid off and crashed to the ground in a great cloud of chalky haze. They all began to disintegrate before her eyes, weathered away like sandstone in a battering wind.

“What is happening!?”

No answer came. Just a peal of howling wind as flecks of crystal dust consumed her. Another voice, the kinder one that spoke to her on Oriande after she gave herself over to the white lion.

_There is no need for sages any longer, Life Giver._

“I—I don’t understand.”

_Go back to your world, Life Giver. You can do no more from here._

She felt a tugging sensation, and the entire vision swirled away. Endless, star-flecked darkness wrapped around her once more. One of the light-ribbons, the one from her right leg, had pulled taut, as though some unknown prey had caught a lure at the end. She pulled back on it and suddenly could see clearly across the impossible distance. A shape appeared. A face, blue eyes framed in glowing marks. It stared up at her through the dark expanse. She breathed, cosmic lungs swelling with ionized hydrogen and particles of interstellar dust. Energies pulsed at the center of her being, a heartbeat, steady and true. She blinked and all the elements of matter shed from her eyes like tears. A quasar burned in her heart, swelled with unimaginable relief, something her body knew but her mind had yet to catch up to understand. Her star-shrouded arms drifted in her periphery, the ribbons of light extending out of her wrists.

Though she couldn’t move independently in this form, she could now see. Five mechanical creatures hovered around her like satellites. The ribbons that connected her to them began to fade away. The beasts roared upon her awakening, and it startled her—but keen invigoration followed. Memories of them finally sank into place. _The Lions of Voltron._ She remembered her father creating them and why. She remembered being put into the sleeping pod, and wondered if she died then and her consciousness was somehow lost in space. The Lions, illuminated by the colors cast by her nebulous glow, were smaller than her, but as quintants passed, they grew larger. Pressure began to build on all sides of her, moulding and shaping her into something solid. She felt tiny, compacted, lost in the infinite abyss.

When she finally looked away from the wonder that was her own hands made flesh and bone, she saw only one Lion. It was huge and crystal white. Iridescent like the pillars of that mystical plane where she encountered the Ancients during her slumber. Golden patterns of circles and lines were etched across its flanks, and an arc of five multi-colored jewels were set over its brow. It opened its massive maw, and she felt its request to enter. She did so, brave yet tentative, and once inside her lungs began to burn. She gasped for air and remembered no more.


End file.
